Martin K(nife) Blackwood

[He's worried. All the concern in the world is etched on his face as he watches Algric sit. Jon swallows thickly, nods, then moves.

Hot cup of tea (no, he's already too warm, but if its a fever he'll come back to that), maybe just some ice water.

The weight of a gaze has his hands trembling and he can feel it driving into his back. Nothing he can do about it now.

Jon takes a steadying breath and comes back to Algric, a glass of iced water and a small ice pack for him.]

Here. Take your time.